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<title>Ultracrepidarian (Prompt #11) by Post-Calamity Jane (GlassHeadcanon)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456890">Ultracrepidarian (Prompt #11)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassHeadcanon/pseuds/Post-Calamity%20Jane'>Post-Calamity Jane (GlassHeadcanon)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TDA: The "off-Global Cooldown Weave" Edition (FFXIV Write 2020) [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Letters, Romantic Comedy, Tropes, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:14:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26456890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassHeadcanon/pseuds/Post-Calamity%20Jane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ranaa makes a presumptuous bet with Sabaki.<br/>-<br/>ultracrepidarian<br/>adjective<br/>US  /ˌʌl.trə.krep.ɪˈder.i.ən/ UK  /ˌʌl.trə.krep.ɪˈdeə.ri.ən/</p><p>expressing an opinion about something that you have no special knowledge of</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TDA: The "off-Global Cooldown Weave" Edition (FFXIV Write 2020) [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ultracrepidarian (Prompt #11)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bet was entirely Ranaa's idea.<br/>
<br/>
It started not long after she had left me back at Black Brush with X'rhun. If she was right, then I owed her a dozen ginger cookies. But if she was wrong...well, I didn't want anything. I tried to convince her as much. Nonetheless, Ranaa insisted I must have some consolation prize in exchange. Otherwise, it wasn't much of a bet, was it? I told her I didn't need one. A prize, maybe. But if I was the one who was right, then what consoling would I need? Consolation only happened from a sense of loss, after all. Like I was missing out on something. And I wasn't sure I understood what exactly I was supposed to be missing out on.</p><p>In her letter, she said:<br/>
<em>"Okay, if you're right, then I promise I'll set you up with this Hyur guy I met in Limsa Lominsa who I think you'd really hit it off with. He's charming, quick-witted, in his late twenties or early thirties at most. Seems pretty fit, from what I can tell. White hair, roguish personality. Was slippery on the details when pressed about his life, but who isn't these days? Besides, mysteriousness is sexy, right? In other words, just your type. Plus, I think he has a thing for Miqo'te girls. And you're not turned off by tattoos, are you?"</em></p><p>I immediately wrote back to turn her down. I made sure to include:<br/>
<em>"I have a type now? How would you know? You've known me for what: a year? I don't even know enough about me at this point to know if I've got a type!" </em></p><p>I was hunched over my letter, so preoccupied with furiously scribbling my reply, that I almost didn't notice how X'rhun, who had been studying at the other end of the table, had bent over to pick up something from the floor. I realized far too late that a slip of paper had fallen from Ranaa's letter, but wasn't about to admit it now.</p><p>I stiffened in my chair to hear him curiously read aloud, "'S: Definitely plays for the other team. R: Merely extremely confident with his own masculinity. P.S. I like my cookies extra spicy.' How very cryptic. Whatever is that supposed to mean?"</p><p>I shrugged and feigned the most innocently-confused expression I could manage before hunching over my letter again, hoping he didn't notice much more.</p>
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